


Sunshine

by slof



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Baking, Cooking, F/M, Kisses, Osayachiweek, kitchen, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27165007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slof/pseuds/slof
Summary: Osamu things Hitoka might be working a bit too hard
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Yachi Hitoka
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> First kiss; cooking or baking // “You’re stupid.” “I know.” “But you’re my stupid.” “I know that too.”

Miya Hitoka wasn’t the best at everything, and she knew that. She was good at managing things like time, projects — other people even. The small blonde was smart, and if she wanted to, she could be a business owner.

Actually, she was a business owner. With her husband being the brawn, she was the brains, working behind the scenes of his business Miya Onigiri and doing all the paperwork that the twin just couldn’t do. 

Though, they covered for each other, that’s what the older twin told the younger one at their wedding. _‘’Samu is kinda dumb, thankfully, ‘Toka covers fer ‘im.’_

Osamu almost tackled Atsumu but decided against it around the white suits and red wine.

  
  


If Hitoka was being honest, managing papers and constantly reading over work was tiring. Her eyes were sore, and she rubbed her eyes with her palm with a tired sigh. The sound of footsteps walked near her office, and she looked up after hearing the door creak open. 

Her husband popped his head in the doorway, a soft smile on his face as he held onto the wall to lean in on one foot. “Hey,” he called out, his voice light as if Hitoka was a newborn crow and he didn’t want to frighten her. “Whatcha doin’?” He asked.

“Work,” she replied in a sigh, and Osamu stepped into the office. He walked around the desk and her chair, standing behind her. His hands found themselves to rest on her shoulders, thumbs began to knead themselves into her skin, rubbing and soothing her tense muscles. “Osamu...” she mumbled softly. 

The twin leaned down, close to her ear. “Come with me,” he whispered. Hitoka felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand, a shiver in her shoulders. Her teeth pinched her bottom lip. She turned in her chair to look at him. 

“For what?”

“Stress reliever, darling,” he said as he grabbed her arm, pulling her up from the seat she had been sitting in for hours. With a soft hold, he dragged her out of the office, shutting the lights off behind as a way to say, _‘You’re done for tonight.’_

Osamu brought her into the kitchen — his domain now. He had some ingredients pulled out and set on the counter with tools that were basic enough for Hitoka to be able to name them AKA she knew what a whisk was. After moving her to stand in front of the counter, he disappeared, but he came back shortly after. He lifted something over her head that she recognized was an apron. It hung around her neck, and he pinched the sides of the apron, guiding his hold down, grabbing ahold of the stringers. He brought them to her back and tied them off in a nice, cute bow. 

When he was finished with that, Osamu put on his own apron, moving to the sink to clean his hands and arms up to his elbows. He glanced over his shoulder at Hitoka, gave a smile, and nodded for her to do the same. With a sigh, she caved in, and she rolled up her sleeves of the yellow, designer turtle neck. She made her way next to Osamu, following his steps and doing the same.

“Osamu, what are we doing?” She asked.

“Yer stressed.”

“I’m fine,” Hitoka said, finishing up washing her hands as Osamu dried his with a towel. She turned off the sink and looked to Osamu. With a tongue peeked out from between his lips, he wrapped her hands in the towel and dried them off for her.

“Yer stressed,” he repeated in a whisper, pressing his forehead to hers. “And ya know what I do when I get stressed?”

With a deep sigh, she nodded. “You cook, or you bake.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed. “Let’s try it together. I’ll show ya just how relaxin’ it is.”

With a sigh, Hitoka gave in. She let a smile stretch her face. “Fine,” she said. 

* * *

“I got—“ Hitoka sighed, and she rested the back of her hands against the counter. The groan that slipped her lips was one of disappointment, Osamu didn’t need to hear it either to know she was upset with herself. When he turned and looked at her, he could tell. The way that her eyebrow twitched a little, the small frown on her face that he honestly thought was adorable, the crinkle of her nose. 

“What?” Osamu asked. He leaned forward, peering over her shoulder in the bowl. Right away, he noticed the issue and laughed. “It’s a simple mistake.”

“Embarrassing,” Hitoka muttered as she picked out the eggshells. “A five-year-old could crack an egg.”

“It’s alright.” Osamu wrapped his arms around her, sliding his hands in the pockets of her apron. He rested his chin in her shoulder, watching as she still picked through the yolk and flicked it on the counter. Moving his face to her neck, he lightly peppered kisses. A soft giggle slipped her lips. She forced it into a frown and cleared her throat.

“Stop that. It’s not alright.”

“Is,” Osamu whispered against her skin, and she found herself giggling again. She slapped at his wrists. “Hitoka.”

“Osamu, get out of my pockets.” 

Osamu just hummed, and he wriggled his fingers in her pockets. She squirmed a little, letting out a louder laugh as he slightly tickled her sides. Lifting her foot, she tried to stomp on Osamu’s foot. It failed. She wasn’t nearly strong enough to throw him off. 

He was thrown off when felt flour hit his face.

Hitoka had reached into her bowl and chucked in right at Osamu.

“Yer jokin’,” Osamu muttered. Hitoka laughed as Osamu removed his hands from her pockets to wipe the flour and egg yolk off of his face. He backed up, looking down at his hands. “Hitoka.”

“Osamu,” she said with a grin. 

“Hitoka.” Osamu stepped forward, backing her up until she hit the counter. He slipped his hand behind her, reaching into the mixing bowl she had sitting on the counter. Once she realized what he was doing, she made an attempt to duck under his arm as he caged her in and run around the counter island, but it was too late. He threw it in her face.

“Dang it,” she said under her breath, and Osamu laughed, reaching up and flicking the food that stuck to her cheeks. He leaned forward and kissed her, pressing his flour-covered forehead against hers. 

“Tastes bad,” Osamu muttered as he pulled away, licking his lips before smacking them. Hitoka stood there, a grin stretched on her face, lifted eyebrows. She sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth and bit back a laugh. Osamu couldn’t help but chuckle, watching as she struggled to stop herself from laughing. “Yer stupid,” he said.

“I know.”

“But yer my stupid.”

Hitoka shrugged. “I know that too.”

Osamu let out a sigh, reached up to her face. He dragged his finger along her cheek, tucking a loose strand behind her ear, following it down her jaw and tilting her chin up. She felt the back of her neck heat up, especially when Osamu leaned forward and pressed her lips to hers again.

“I should call ya _‘Sunshine’_ ,” Osamu mumbled against her lips.

“Sunshine?” Hitoka asked.

“Yah,” he said with a small laugh cutting through. “Yah, ‘cause, ya know.”

“What?” She raised an eyebrow, backing up a bit, her hands on his chest. His arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her close as he smiled down at her. 

“‘Cause ya taste like flours.” Osamu pursed his lip to hold back a laugh. “Like, flours — flowers.”

Hitoka didn’t look pleased.

“Come on.”

She looked away, taking a deep breath as a smile broke through. “You’re not funny.”

“Yer smilin’.”

“I’m not.”

Osamu laughed, pulling her into a hug. He rested his chin on her head. “Ya love me.”

“Lucky you.”

They stood in silence for a bit. Hitoka let her arms wrap around Osamu, her hands clasping behind him. They started to swing, Osamu started to hum. 

The two stopped when the oven began beeping signaling it was done preheating.

Osamu sighed, pulling away from Hitoka. His hands moved to her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs back and forth. He gave her a soft smile.

“Feelin’ better at all?” He asked.

Hitoka laughed, and she nodded. “Yes, even though we made a mess, it was fun.” On her toes, she reached up and gave him a kiss. “Thank you.”

“Go lay in bed, watch some shows, relax,” Osamu said. He reached around her a pulled the strings on her apron, letting it fall loose. “Maybe shower first, then do that,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll finish up and clean up in here.” 

“You sure?” Hitoka asked as Osamu lifted the apron over her head. He kissed her again. 

“‘Course, darling. Go. I'll bring ya the sweets when it's done.” 

Hitoka sighed and nodded. She stepped away from Osamu, beginning to make her way out of the kitchen. There was a hand around her wrist, and it pulled her back from making any more progress out of the room. 

Osamu gave her one last kiss. “I love you.” She smiled, and Osamu’s hand left her wrist, sliding down the rest of her hand.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter @mattsuhana


End file.
